


A Name Like (Fire)

by orphan_account



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poetry, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 10:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21034880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jean has been sitting by the water for hours by the time Jeremy sits down next to him, playing with the corners of the worn out pages of Jean’s journal. “You left this behind.”





	A Name Like (Fire)

Jean has been sitting by the water for hours by the time Jeremy sits down next to him, playing with the corners of the worn out pages of Jean’s journal. “You left this behind.” 

He is grateful Jeremy picked it up, but Jean doesn’t reach out for it, and Jeremy makes no move to hand it back. There’s a tension between them, but it’s not the cold grip of a hand on the back of his neck or the irrational fear of _ what if _ when he lets a striker past him on the court. It’s more of an ache, one Jean feels behind his ribs and makes his heart pound, and he is acutely aware of the sand beneath his fingers, the shift of cotton against his thighs and the cool air on his collar. He can hear Jeremy breathing and imagines he can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. He inhales deeply and closes his eyes. 

_If I had a name like Fire, _ he writes

Darkness envelops him, but the image of the stars in his mind’s eye is bright enough that he can still see them clearly.

_I would wear the night like a cloak of friendship and make a place for you at my hearth. _

Jeremy sighs, and it’s a sound that makes Jean’s bones bend. He feels the whisper of a touch on his cheek, along his jaw — warm fingertips tracing the ragged path of his past down from his eye to his lips, his one way ticket to California.

_Every comfort you take from my warmth and every branch you feed my flames are secrets shared, _

_ And alone under the stars we are the truest of friends. _

Soundless shifting in the sand and a momentary absence of warmth at his side — it returns, suddenly, when Jeremy settles in his lap. Jean’s fingers curl inwards, clawing tracks into the sand.

“Okay?” Jeremy whispers, and he smells like peppermint and sunrise; Jean shudders, breath stolen in broken fragments.

“Jean?” He noses the line of his jaw, across his cheek. The space between Jeremy’s mouth and Jean’s skin burns. 

_If I had a name like Fire, _

Jeremy reaches up and holds his face between his palms, fingers brushing slowly and gently across his skin, soft and without hesitation and it’s enough for Jean to forget for a moment that he is blemished and torn and scarred. 

The image of the stars is fading now, but Jean knows that before he can reclaim the sight he’ll be confronted with something much more immediate — something not quite blue and not quite green, something that shines with promises of _ possibilities, _ and _ forward. Truth, _ and not one Jean is sure he’s ready to hear.

_I would hold you like a lover; _

_ My flames would dance for you and my embers would sing for you. _

There’s a future with Jeremy on the horizon, and it frightens Jean more than anything. 

The touch is light; chaste. Jeremy’s kiss is a breath, a flicker of warmth — but in the darkness of Jean’s dreams even a flicker flares like a beacon and as Jeremy leans back Jean follows. He presses a kiss to Jeremy’s smile and opens his eyes. 

In the sun, Jeremy’s skin is painted bronze and his hair dyed the colour of summer. Under the moon, he is transformed; bronze turns deeper, cooler, and starlight follows the lines of his body, illuminating the breadth of his shoulders. His hair falls over his eyes as he gazes down at Jean, shifting from gold to silver as the moon hits just so.

_Crackling timber whispers sweet nothings in your ear, and you fall asleep knowing I’ll keep you safe. _

“Hello,” Jeremy whispers.

Jean swallows, gaze shifting from Jeremy’s eyes back to his lips. “‘allo,” he replies.

Jeremy laughs, and he runs his fingers through Jean’s hair, surely mussing it beyond repair. “How are you?” He says it almost teasing, but there’s an underlying touch of concern.

Jean means to say _ fine, _ or _ warm, _ or _ content _ , which would all be true, but — “My future is decided for me. I have things I _ have _ to achieve, but I don’t know if I can do it. Choices I make now will affect everything. _ This _ can affect everything.

“It’s —" He chokes, takes a steadying breath. “It’s...easier to look to the past, to what I _ know.” _ Something unchanging. Something familiar — _ darkness, ignorance, fear. The sky, the stars, the sun, the moon. _

Jeremy smiles down at him, still kneeling above his thighs. He tilts his head, a fond look on his face. “You’re looking too far. You should focus on something closer.”

Jean closes his eyes and frowns, and Jeremy pokes the wrinkle between his brows. “It’s not that simple,” Jean tells him.

Jeremy’s nose brushes against his, and his breath is warm against Jean’s lips. “Just look at me.”

Jean startles, and guilt grips his heart tight enough that it makes his breath stutter. “I —“ _ I’m not sure that's going to be enough. _

Jeremy’s smile is small and sad, like he heard what Jean meant to say anyway. “Sorry. It’s okay. You know that’s okay.” He leans down to kiss Jean’s cheek, and rises from his lap. He brushes the sand from his shorts and leans over to grab Jean’s forgotten journal. He presses it into Jean’s hands, folds his fingers over it. “Let’s go home, Jean.”

He holds out his hand, and Jean accepts it and pulls himself to his feet. Jeremy doesn’t let go of his hand, and neither does Jean; their steps are clumsy in the sand and limited light. Jean thinks for a moment that maybe he can leave his insecurities and fears behind here, let them be swallowed by the ocean and the stars. Wonders if that would be enough to soothe the hurts and let him move on and experience something _ new. _

Jeremy’s hand is warm. Jean clutches his journal to his chest.

_But come morning and shifting shadows I’m seen in a different light; _

_ You should not have trusted the friendship the night had cloaked me in. _

_ I have shared your deepest secrets with the wind _

_ And my love has left scars on your virgin skin. _

_ The affection I had showered upon you was false and brief, _

_ For my true existence is one of destruction and loneliness, _

_ If I had a name like Fire. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments & kudos are always appreciated.


End file.
